


Storm in a D Cup

by silvernatasha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breasts, Community: daily_deviant, Incest, Other, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvernatasha/pseuds/silvernatasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fred and George like to test new concoctions over tea. By which they mean firewhiskey. Not all Wheezes are suitable for consumption with alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm in a D Cup

Fred flipped the sign in the window. Then, for good measure, he secured the door. "Georgie boy," he called jovially. "Time for tea. You making it this week?"

Popping up from behind the display of Wonder Witch products, George grinned. "It would be my pleasure." He gave Fred a salute and disappeared up to the flat with a playful  _crack_.

Fred checked his reflected. Satisfied, he sauntered out to the back room, smirking as he came face-to-arse with Verity's pert backside, their shopgirl halfway up a ladder as she rearranged stock. "Time to sling your hook, love," he chided. She worked far too hard, in his opinion. Life wasn't all about work.

Verity gave a gasp of surprise, wobbling. Grasping the ladder tightly, she glared down at him before tidying her expression into something more suitable. "Yes, Mr Weasley."

Leaning one arm on the ladder, Fred shook his head. "It's after hours. You can call me Fred, you know."

"Yes, Mr Fred."

As she descended the ladder, Fred chuckled. "Mr Fred? I think I like that." He plucked a stray bit of pink Pygmy Puff fur from her shoulder. "Are you staying for tea? It's been a while since you joined us."

Frowning, Verity ran her hand back through her spiky blonde hair. "Oh, I don't know..."

"You know you want to," he chided with a smirk. "George is putting everything together."

"Is there going to be actual tea this time?"

He scoffed. "No. Probably firewhiskey, unless you've got any preferences? But definitely cake. Plenty of cake." Fred waggled his eyebrows at her. "And maybe chocolate biscuits."

Verity pursed her lips and Fred held back a grin as he could see the lure of chocolate winning out and wearing down her resistance. "All right. Fine. You need someone sensible there to oversee things, Mr Fred." She blushed at her own impudence, but Fred simply gave a guffaw and threw his arm around her shoulder.

Upstairs, they heard George bustling about the kitchen and the occasional  _clink_  of crockery. "Make yourself comfortable," Fred said, waving at the mismatched pair of couches that dominated the small living room.

When she stripped off her robes, Fred rolled his eyes. "Chudley Cannons?" he asked, eyeing her t-shirt. "Have you no self-worth?"

Verity sighed and plonked herself down on the red couch, toeing off her shoes. "I like the Cannons," she protested. "Everyone loves an underdog."

"Ah," George interjected, entering the room with a tray laden with goodies, a delicate floral tea set and a mostly-full bottle of Ogden's. "But there's underdogs and then there's the Cannons. Hopeless." Verity simply scowled at the assessment of her favoured Quidditch team. Unfortunately for her, Fred and George had years of anti-Cannons material that they'd used on Ron and his hopeless devotion to the orange-clad runts of the league.

It had to be said, though, that Verity looked far better in Cannons orange than Ron.

"So," she said slowly, casting an eye over the assorted fairy cakes, chocolate biscuits and delicate pastries, "what are they dosed with today?"

George tutted and shook his head. "Shall I be mother?" he asked, picking up the bottle of firewhiskey. "You know if I told you it would spoil the surprise," he said, pouring their drinks. "But there's a few old favourites and few new things that need testing."

"Any placebos?" Fred's examination of the tea tray was rather more analytical than Verity's. George simply shrugged enigmatically and passed Fred a teacup of firewhiskey.

Sipping her drink, Verity relaxed a little with the heat of alcohol. She'd done this before, helped them test random concoctions before they were put into the final products. But the nervousness never quite wore away - you never knew if you were going to sprout feathers or start talking backwards.

George picked up a cream puff and bit into it happily, cream spurting out the other end.

"Not fair," Verity complained. "He knows what they all are."

"Someone needs to," Fred pointed out. He held out a treat. "Fancy a cheeky finger?"

Verity rolled her eyes and and snatched the chocolate finger. "Thanks."

Taking a little more time over his selection, Fred picked up a small cake that was dotted with silver balls. Despite spotting George's smirk, Fred took a large bite. "Nice cake," he said, mouth full. "Make it yourself?"

"Nah. Bought them at lunch time." George took a drink, then another bite of his cream puff.

Verity checked her hands. Her skin didn't appear to have turned a funny colour. She could just about make out her reflection on the bottle of Ogden's and couldn't spot any noticeable difference about her appearance. "Think mine might have been clean," she remarked. No funny voice, either.

"Hmm." George narrowed his eyes a little.

"You're not wearing a bra," Fred said. "I can see your nipples."

Her cheeks swiftly turning red, Verity looked down at herself. Well, he was right about that. "I... I..." She spluttered, attempting to form a response to her boss' surprising remark. "I don't really have much to put in a bra." Her bosoms were hardly of the heaving persuasion. Beestings, Angelina had teased her, despite being similarly endowed.

"I like your tits," Fred corrected. "They're perky."

Verity gasped; George chuckled, reaching over to top up her cup. "Just a variation of a truth potion. Very mild."

Taking a gulp of firewhiskey, she remarked, "Does he have to say everything he's thinking?"

"Yes," the twins chorused.

George picked up a jammy dodger and took a bite. A moment later, a small ginger cat was sitting where he had been. Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to put down his drink.

"You're going to get cat hair everywhere," Fred complained as George meowed and padded across the couch to curl on Verity's lap.

Laughing, she stroked him gently and he started to purr. "How long is this going to last for?" she asked curiously, George apparently getting very comfortable where he was.

"Few minutes." Fred nodded at the tray. "Go on. Try something else."

Her hand hovered over the selection as she tried to decide. Finally, she picked up one of the small cakes, this one daubed haphazardly with what looked like some sort of chocolate spread. "Your handiwork, I guess," she said to the tomcat. That meant there was probably some sort of potion mixed into the chocolate. There were worse ways to try experimental products, she reasoned.

The cake was as good as Fred had said, fluffy, light and just a little vanilla. Again, Verity didn't feel any different, but she knew that not all Wheezes took effect instantly.

George purred again, wriggling onto his back and pawing up at her. He purred louder, then stretched. Then, he was human again, still pawing until he realised that he was back to his normal form. Without a hint of embarrassment, George gave a feline smirk. "Nice lap."

"You make an adorable cat, Mr Weasley. Um, George."

"Your tits are getting bigger," Fred offered.

Verity sighed. "Stop staring at my - Wait. What?"

Looking down, Fred's assessment was undeniable. The orange fabric of her t-shirt was now tight across her chest, her nipples visibly hard. Verity would maintain that there was a chill in the air, though now she was actually thinking about her breasts, they did seem oddly cold. "You made a product that makes a woman's boobs grow bigger?" she asked in disbelief. It didn't seem their style. Ton-Tongue Toffees were one things, but this was different.

Although, thinking of all those adults who purchased Ton-Tongue Toffees put entirely different thoughts in her head now.

"No." George sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Not breasts. It's meant to make you sort of... bobble heady. Like a doll." He absently Summoned a notebook and quill. "Obviously it still needs some work."

"I kind of like what it's doing now," Fred said with a twinkle in his eyes. He sipped delicately from his teacup and put it down, leaning forwards to examine her new-grown chest more closely.

Verity sighed, exasperated. "I look like a slutty Quidditch groupie." The t-shirt was positively straining now and she tugged at the neckline, worried that if she took a deep breath she might very well split the t-shirt at the seams. "They're still growing. Can't you make them stop?"

"It should wear off soon," George mumbled, tongue poking out between his lips as he scribbled down notes. Fred, on the other hand, was snickering and picking the silver balls off another fairy cake.

Sighing again, Verity took a big swallow of firewhiskey, immediately wishing she hadn't when her breasts decided to have a growth spurt. Her old t-shirt really did split at the seams, breasts at least twice as big as they had been a moment before and yet still pert and rosy enough to give any glamour model severe jealousy.

Too shocked that she was now mostly topless in front of her bosses, Verity couldn't even move enough to attempt to cover her still gently-swelling breasts.

"Merlin on a fucking pogo stick," Fred breathed, while George murmured, "Do not mix with alcohol," and wrote it down.

Verity whimpered, too busy staring at the unfamiliar breasts to notice Fred's fingers reaching out to stroke an erect nipple. She cried out, jerking away. Her breasts jiggled with the movement, but the strong sensation caused by the brief touch coursed through her. Verity had never known her tits to be so sensitive.

"I might see if I can find something to stop them growing any bigger," George said, rising from the couch.

"Yeah," Verity said, sounding breathless to her own ears. "Before I have to cart them home in a wheelbarrow." She tried to put her hands over her nipples, but even her own touch made her gasp and moan, sinking back on the sofa.

"What do you think, Fred?"

Fred grinned, staring at Verity's breasts. Their growth seemed to have slowed, but there was no way she'd be able to fit those tits under even the baggiest of robes. "I think I can make her come just sucking on her nipples," he said in a low voice that made Verity's fingers twitch on her breasts and send a jolt of pleasure through her.

"Not what I was asking, Fred."

"Not caring, George." Fred's gaze slipped up to meet Verity's, his wicked smirk as electrifying as his touch. "What do you reckon, Verity?" he asked softly, closing the gap between them on the couch. His fingers delicately skimmed the soft curve of her breast, making her shiver.

"I think I need another drink." She pursed her lips together, holding back a moan.

"I wouldn't." George perched himself on the arm of the couch, his mission forgotten. "Or you really will be carting them home in a wheelbarrow."

Fred chuckled dryly, his fingers trailing up her breast again, a ghostly touch on her warm skin. As he pulled the tattered remains of her t-shirt up over her head, Verity bit her lip. She'd never seen him with such a delicate touch; it nearly didn't register with her that he was touching her until he nudged her hand out of the way, delicate fingers stroking over her sensitive nipple.

"Oh, god." Verity knew if she'd been standing that her knees would have given out beneath her. "I think we should do what Fred says," she groaned, head falling back against the squishy couch cushions.

"You heard the lady, George." He lowered his head, starting to kiss down her breast. Glancing up at George, Fred paused, his breath wickedly hot against her. "Want to join in? There's more than enough to go around."

Verity's eyes widened in surprise, letting out a heavy gasp as Fred's mouth closed around her nipple in her moment of distraction.

Slithering down off the couch and kneeling in front of them, George looked inquisitively at Verity, seeking permission. Verity could barely keep her eyes open, lips hanging open in quiet pleasure as Fred sucked gently, his tongue curling around the erect nipple. Her hand fell from her other breast, falling limply to her side. George gave her a slow smile and then his mouth was on her too; Verity thought she might very well expire from arousal.

Though they looked identical, the twins' mouths certainly weren't. Whereas George's lips were insistent, almost earnest, Fred's were playful, teasing every response out of her.

Fred's suggestion that he could make her come like this, Verity thought, might very well become a reality. She squirmed breathlessly, finding that the seam of her jeans pressed beautifully against the juncture of her thighs as she did.

Verity whined as Fred pulled his mouth away, though only briefly as he plucked another cake from the tray. Using the cake, he daubed buttercream icing on her breast as she watched him with half-closed eyes and bated breath. The cake nearly bare, Fred tossed it back over his shoulder where it landed near the fireplace with a shower of crumbs.

As he started to lick the icing from her, he sprouted donkey ears and gave a bray of laughter as a tail swished out from under his jumper. Verity laughed, chest shaking as she did. George's teeth scraped across her nipple and she gasped, fingers grasping at the couch.

"Oh god oh god oh god," she mumbled, head tipping back and hips bucking up unconsciously. "Oh god oh god oh god."

George stroked the flat of his tongue across the taut peak, mouth drawing away with an obscene noise. "Reckon she's calling us gods?" His hand, large as it was, tried to cup her breast and only partially succeeded. His thumb rubbed back and forth over the nipple, almost idly as he looked at his brother.

"Could be," Fred murmured around a mouthful of nipple. Pulling back, he smirked up at her, a grin growing as she growled in frustration.

"Don't stop."

"Stop what, Verity?" Fred asked gently.

She growled again, the words on the tip of her tongue but she was reluctant to say them before she realised that she really was topless and unspeakably aroused because of her bosses. Verity screwed her eyes shut. "Sucking my tits. Please. Don't stop."

"Hmm. She did say please," George pointed out.

"Yeah. Would be rude if we didn't." A smile still on his face, he kissed her breast.

Verity squeaked when a pair of warm lips pressed against her own. Even if she hadn't known that it was Fred putting the exquisite sucking pressure on her tit, she would have guessed that it was George kissing. His lips were just as insistent as before, sweet from the cakes and biscuits he'd been eating.

He pulled back so gently that Verity tried to follow, swept away by the kiss and in dire need for something  _deeper_.

He's just thinking about getting you off like this," George murmured, brushing kisses to her chin, her throat. His rough fingers curled around the back of her neck, sliding through her short blonde hair.

Verity's brow furrowed. Why exactly was that a bad thing? Her breath hitched; she watched him closely, on tenterhooks as she waited for him to continue.

"But I'm thinking about what happens  _after_  he's got you off." His thumb flicked across her nipple and a whimper ripped itself from her throat.

"After?"

"Yeah. When I'm lying right there on the floor and you're naked, riding me until you come again." His fingers squeezed, his voice a low whisper that made her skin prickle with excitement. "Have a theory that you like to go on top."

"Yes, Mr Weasley," she groaned, eyes closing and unbelievably tense with desire. "Fuck." Fred's fantastic mouth and the images that George was putting in her mind's eye had her unbelievably close to the edge. A final touch from both of them brought her off with a yelp, nearly kicking Fred in the groin and her whole body trembling. Unable to make any coherent noises, let along form sentences, Verity lay there, sagging against the sofa and gasping for breath.

She heard the crunch of a biscuit and then a braying laugh from Fred that turned into his normal chuckle. Daring to open her eyes, she saw he had lost his donkey-like features. A relief, really: the tail had been a little unsettling. Looking down at herself and the massive boobs she had acquired - one sticky and smeared with icing - Verity had to admit that was a bit unsettling, too.

A chocolate finger in his hand, Fred slid it back and forth between his lips, lavishing it with a slightly different oral intensity than he had her nipple. Verity licked her lips as she watched, mouth turning a little dry as she thought of how she might mimic that same action with her own mouth. By this point she was beyond caring that this was Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley.

Then, by the time she was standing naked over George, that particular Mr Weasley lying on the floor with his arms folded behind his head and a smirk on his lips, she was putty in Fred's hands as he told her to turn around. Feeling a little unsteady on her feet as she tried to account for the new weight on her chest, Verity was easily distracted when he squeezed her boobs and encouraged her down to the ground.

George sat up, hand on his cock as he guided it into her. "I wanted her facing me," he complained, expression strained as he felt the tightness of her cunt swallowing him. As she sank down heavily, Verity's eyes rolled back. She didn't think she'd ever felt so full.

"I want to have some fun, too," Fred told his brother with a grin.

"Don't I get a say?" Verity gasped, slowly starting to move and generate some much-needed friction.

George kissed her neck, his hands sliding under her breasts to rest on her ribcage. "You can say anything you want."

His chest pressed against her back, so warm that Verity felt positively feverish. She wanted to say something, anything, but all she could do was whine when she saw that Fred had unzipped, his potion-splashed jeans pushed down around his arse and his hand wrapped around the cock that matched the one she was riding. She clenched around George in response to the sight of it; George made a choking noise of pleasure.

Leisurely stroking his erection, Fred perused the selection of treats that were still on the tray. He took a swig of firewhiskey, then picked up something up. After a nibble at the pastry, Fred offered it out to her. "Jam tart?" He pushed it past her parted lips just enough for her to take a small bite.

Verity licked crumbs from her lips, the undulations of her hips slow. "Yrrebwarts," she groaned, possibly her favourite flavour of anything after chocolate. The word sounded strange to her ears and she groaned again when she realised that she was talking backwards. "Ydoolb lleh."

"Yeah, I like strawberry, too," Fred chuckled, thumb circling over the head of his cock. "Hang on."

"Gnah no?" she gasped as George slid his hand down her flat stomach.

"Don't make her come again yet," Fred warned, Summoning something from one of the adjoining bedrooms.

George exhaled, breath hot on the back of her neck. "Hurry up," he growled.

Something flew into Fred's waiting palm. Squeezing a generous amount of lubrication onto his hand, Fred took his time to spread it between her breasts, teasing both Verity with his touches and George with the delay. Cool against her skin, it smelled strongly of strawberries.

Positioning himself, his jeans slipping down further, Fred pressed his cock between her breasts. Both twins helped press them together, enveloping his erection in the warm, strawberry-scented mounds. Fred swore under his breath, thrusting slickly forward as Verity picked up the pace.

"T'nac ehtaerb." Verity's head fell back, resting against George's. "Tnaw ot emoc. Esaelp."

"I think that was a please," George grunted, hands squeezing her breasts. Fred, however, hadn't the presence of mind to respond, hips moving faster as he fucked her tits and setting his own pace in contrast to Verity's control. She became more erratic with her movements, jerking more and gasping louder.

"Esaelp," she repeated. "Esaelp, esaelp, esaelp."

George slid his hand back down, fingers seeking between her thighs for the little bundle of nerves that would make her fall apart again. The backwards words that Verity was saying started to make even less sense, fragmented and breathy, but he could recognise any four-letter expletive, however it was said.

She went rigid in his embrace, the grip of her orgasm starting in her cunt and clenching down tight around him before spreading out through her body. George growled, pressing up into her with a jerk of his hips. His fingers pressed harder against her clit as he came, Verity whimpering and trembling.

Fred relaxed his hold on her breasts, cock slipping from between them. With a couple of jerks of his own hand, he brought himself off. His climax splattered Verity's chest and she gave a tired gasp of, "Kcuf."

"Want to write that down, George?" Fred asked. "Application of semen does not affect the Wheeze."

"Not right now." George chuckled breathlessly. "Maybe later."

"Uoy otw era..." Verity cleared her throat. "You two are such romantics." She frowned, taking in the sight of the sticky white mess on her breasts. "Can you clean this up, Mr Weasley? Fred."

"Yeah." Shimmying back into his jeans, Fred flopped onto the couch. He lazily picking up his wand and Banished the mess. Then, he tossed his wand onto the tray where it clinked against the firewhiskey bottle.

"You going to help me up?" Verity asked.

"Kind of like watching you move," he confessed.

George, though, put his hands on her hips and helped ease her up. Verity thought it a bit of a miracle that she didn't knock anything over when she used the coffee table as leverage. Collecting up his own clothes, George passed Verity her robes. Clutching them to her chest, she excused herself to the bathroom and gained a wolf whistle from Fred as he watched the sway of her hips and tempting curve of her arse.

Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother. "So that definitely wasn't meant to happen when she ate that?"

"No." George rolled his eyes. "I'm not  _you_." He wobbled his head from side to side. "Was definitely meant to be bobbly-headedness."

"Kind of like the new effect."

"Not really our usual product range."

"We could expand." He smirked. "No pun intended."

George scratched his chin. "Would need to do a lot of research."

"I'm willing to experiment."

"I bet." Refilling both their teacups, George passed one to his brother. "We'll have to see what Verity thinks."

"Think it was pretty obvious what I was thinking," Verity piped up now that she was dressed, or at least dressed the best she could with her robes half-unbuttoned to accommodate her bust. "Don't know if you could sell that, though, Mr Weasley." Fred coughed lightly. "Fred."

Sitting down on the couch, her back starting to ache, Verity adjusted her robes. "Anything on that tray actually safe to eat?"

George frowned, concentrating. "I wouldn't risk it."

She pouted. "You ruined my favourite t-shirt, you know."

"We'll buy you a new one," George assured her. "Can put it down as a business expense."

"A better one," Fred added. "For a better team."

"But I liked that one."

Reaching over, Fred slowly slid his hand up her thigh. "Stay for breakfast and we'll make it up to you."


End file.
